


Night Off

by InkorStardust



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Consensual Kink, Crying, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Steve Has Issues, hooker steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 05:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1845886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkorStardust/pseuds/InkorStardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He gets why Steve does this, he does. Taking a night off from being good and perfect and everything he’s supposed to be that’s like a mountain on his shoulders. Bucky doesn't mind taking a night off from being himself too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Off

The bar is beyond seedy. It’s the sort of place people who get banned from seedy bars end up. It’s really not much more than the last stop between drinking establishments and sitting in an alley with a bottle. The paint job is at least fifteen years overdue an update, and the grease marks on the bar are immovable stains on the plastic topped wood.

The beer’s pretty shitty too.

Bucky swigs his anyway, back to the other patrons as he hunches over the bar. To all the world he paints a familiar picture. Lonely, sad man without enough money to go anywhere better but enough to drown his sorrows in whatever will get him drunk.

Of course, he can’t get drunk, but it’s the picture that counts. He has to set the right scene or he won’t get what he wants.

Another few minutes pass as he slowly, morosely, drinks down his beer. An observer might see him glaring at the bar like there’s someone else he wants to be glaring at, but he’s mostly trying to figure out if the stain in front of him is booze, or blood. It’s that sort of place. Absently he wonders if he’s going to die of heatstroke from the lack of A/C first, or brain haemorrhaging from the blaring music.

A solid presence settles into the stool next to him, and he has to force down a relieved smile. A voice light with amusement starts to speak. “You know, if you’re that angry at the bar you might feel better lighting it on fire. It’d only be an improvement.”

Bucky lets the edges of a smile turn his lips. “Sounds like fun, but the bar ain’t my problem.”

“Ooh, let me guess. Girlfriend troubles?” The voice is practiced in volume- loud enough to be heard, but low enough to avoid attracting attention.

Taking another swig of terrible beer, Bucky shakes his head. “Boyfriend troubles. Left me for a fucking dentist.”

He likes this part of the evening. He likes the little stories of lives he’s never lived. Sometimes it’s a girl, sometimes it’s a boy, occasionally it’s a genderless musician from Alaska, but it’s always enough to apparently drive him to drink.

“Ain’t that the way of the world?” His companion says smoothly. The man’s hand is propped on the bar, and every time Bucky lifts his bottle their knuckles brush. “What’s your name?”

“James,” he replies, and finally looks over.

He gets why Steve does this, he does. Taking a night off from being good and perfect and everything he’s supposed to be that’s like a mountain on his shoulders. Bucky doesn’t mind taking a night off from being himself too. The way Steve deals with it, he wouldn’t feel right if he wasn’t the one out with him.

The black tank top Steve’s wearing looks painted on, but that’s more down to his body than any fault of the shirt. His jeans have holes worn in at the knees, lived in jeans. It’s not the sort of thing he generally gets to wear.

After Bucky’s taken a good look, he gets a name in return. “Steve.”

The hand on the bar isn’t accidental anymore, a broad thumb brushing against the back of his hand.

Bucky swallows dryly. “Can I buy you a drink?”

There’s something like entertainment on Steve’s face again, but his eyes are already dark and the look goes straight to Bucky’s gut as he smiles. “Maybe. But I’ve got a better idea.”

“Oh?” Another mouthful of beer, feigning ignorance. He knows how this story goes.

Steve leans forward, and the broad hand on the bar is now sliding along Bucky’s thigh, thumb brushing far too close to his crotch to be decent. He can’t help but spread his legs a little in response, breathing in deeply as Steve’s lips come to rest beside his ear. “How much cash do you have on you?”

There’s no one looking at them, because it’s that kind of bar, but Bucky looks around as if he doesn’t know that. One beat, two beats, taking it in, then, “Around a hundred dollars, maybe.”

He feels the curl of the smile against his skin. “I think I could take your mind off your problems for a hundred dollars.”

Steve’s tone adds to the heat in his gut, and most of his brain is telling him to switch to autopilot, but that’s not how the story goes. Not yet.

He pulls his head back, looking the other man in the eye. “I’ve never had a hooker trying to pick me up before.”

“Does it bother you?” In the dim lights, he can see Steve’s pupils are blown as he asks. The hand on his thigh shifts upwards encouragingly.

 _God, no._ “S’kinda weird.”

An amused noise comes deep and low from Steve’s chest. “It’s just like fucking anybody else. ‘Cept I’ll do anything you want.”

This is Bucky’s least favourite part. The stumbling hesitation. “Anything?” he asks, licking his lips nervously.

“Anything that a hundred dollars can buy you.” The thundering pulse of the music matches Bucky’s heartbeat as Steve leans in again. The bad lighting only does the other man good, catching under his dark eyes and along the line of his unshaven jaw. His lips are swollen, and while Bucky knows he’s just been chewing on them, his dick is invested in the thought of exactly what could cause that look.

The desperation in his voice isn’t faked as he answers. “Yeah. Please.”

Steve lets go of Bucky’s thigh as he stands, picking up a dark leather jacket from where he’d dumped it on the chair behind him. As they walk out Bucky watches how it strains over the width of his shoulders and tries not to think about it. He’s got the rest of the night ahead of him.

They end up at a motel that makes the bar look like a five star restaurant, the neon sign flickering on and off even as they push through the doorway. The desk clerk doesn’t look up as they slip past, and Steve doesn’t fumble with his key at all.

The moment the door is closed, Bucky lets out a breath. From this point on he’s pretty certain with what to do, even if he has to fake more nerves as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “So, do I just…?” There’s a bunch of folded notes between his fingers.

Steve laughs and kisses him, one hand curling around his hip as the other pulls the notes away. The crumpled paper gets a once over before he pushes it into the breast pocket of the jacket.

The hand on his hip shifts and drags across his crotch, fingertips resting around the button of his jeans. The curl of amusement is back on the other man’s face, but Bucky has been half hard since the bar and really isn’t paying much attention to expressions.

They’re kissing again, and Bucky pulls the jacket off so he can run his hands across Steve’s arms. “You’re fucking gorgeous, anybody ever tell you that? And built like a Panzer.”

Steve pauses and pulls away enough to kiss him once, a little more gently. Then he’s back in the game, unbuttoning Bucky’s jeans and putting one of his broad hands into his underwear to stroke his dick.

Bucky presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to the side of Steve’s throat. “So,” the question starts, and he can feel the vibrations under his lips. “What do you want?”

It’s not easy to think as Steve’s hand, getting slicked in pre come, is running the length of him casually, so he wraps his hand around the other man’s wrist to halt him. “I want to see you. First.”

Nothing shows on Steve’s face as he pulls away, but Bucky knows he’s still managing to be self-conscious about the way he looks. Asking for him to strip off is a little self-indulgent, but he’s only human.

The black tank top gets peeled off and dropped to the floor, and Bucky has to restrain himself from closing the gap between them and running his hands across the expanse of Steve’s chest. While all of his actions have been thoroughly professional so far, there’s a blush working its way up his torso, flushing his skin in a way he can’t stop. The shoes go next, kicked off so he can unbutton his worn out jeans and hook his thumbs inside the waistband. He drags them down slowly, and after an inch or so Bucky lets out an aroused noise of surprise that is completely genuine as he realises Steve has nothing on underneath.

Steve’s left standing there, flushed and hard, and it takes all of Bucky’s considerable willpower not to touch him. “You’re… you’re pretty fucking impressive buddy.”

The professionalism has snapped back into place as Steve reaches out and drags him back over by his shirt collar. “And you’re pretty overdressed, aren’t you?”

Steady hands start unbuttoning his shirt while he goes back to the spot he was kissing on Steve’s throat and starts sucking a bruise. Idle hands aren’t half as fun as preoccupied ones, and he reaches down to touch the other man’s dick. He has to let go to get the shirt off, but the feeling of the head of it pressed slickly against his stomach instead is worth the interruption.

“Now are you going to tell me what you want?” Steve asks lowly, fingers tugging at Bucky’s jeans.

“I want to fuck you.” He doesn’t hesitate at all. There’s barely time to get him out of his jeans before he’s being pushed onto the wire framed bed, sitting down heavily. Steve tugs his underwear off as well before straddling his lap, his knees pressing into the mattress on either side of Bucky’s thighs.

He leans down and brings their lips together before kissing along the line of his jaw. “How do you want me?” The question is barely more than a hot breath against Bucky’s ear.

Instead of answering, Bucky shifts back, settling in the middle of the bed before grabbing one of Steve’s hands and pulling him down on top of him. The position earns him a quirked eyebrow before he flips them over.

He kisses down Steve’s chest, pulling a whine out of him by tugging on one of his nipples with his teeth. Kneeling between the other man’s legs, he waits until he’s nearly upright before trailing his fingers along the crease of his thigh.

Some of his willpower is spent on not taking Steve’s dick into his mouth and sucking him off until he comes. If it was any other night he’d deep throat him until his voice was hoarse, but that’s not on the list tonight. Steve grabs a bottle from the nightstand and shoves it into his hands.

His fingertips come to rest against Steve’s hole and he pauses. The plan was just going to be teasing him a little before opening the lube and working him open, but he pulls his hand back, and he was right- wet. Shifting back again, he lies flat to get a better look at what he’s doing. “What the hell. You’re fucking wet like a girl, Steve-”

Suddenly his mouth is very dry. Steve’s already slick with lube, stretched more open than he should be. Why he asked Bucky to go out early is swiftly becoming apparent, and the image paints itself across his mind, of Steve fucking himself open on his thick fingers. It takes him a minute to recover and figure out what he’s supposed to be thinking in this situation. “Did you get fucked right before you found me?”

Steve props himself up on his elbows to look at him, nearly grinning. “A guy’s gotta eat.”

Just for the attitude, Bucky pushes a slick finger inside him without warning. Steve lets out a moan and pushes back against him. “I know you’re a whore, but that’s a little too far, don’t you think? Getting fucked open by one guy before running out to find somebody else to fuck you.”

Pushing another finger inside is fairly easy, but Steve still rocks his hips to get him to work faster. “D’you just love dick that much? That you can’t go an hour without having one inside you? I bet you feel fucking empty when you’re not being stretched open on somebody’s cock."

Steve’s head is thrown back, showing off the bruised line of his throat, and he stumbles over his words. “Please, James, come on.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it. You’ve already had a dick inside you tonight- just ‘cause you’re whining like a bitch in heat doesn’t mean you get to act like one.” Bucky twists his fingers a little but doesn’t move them any more than that, even as he gets the desperate whine he wants to prove his point. “Bet that’s your dream, right? Getting fucked open by every dick in the neighbourhood like a bitch.”

Steve’s doing his best to fuck himself on Bucky’s fingers, and again it’s easy to push another finger into him. “You’re such a slut that you can’t even wait, can you? You’d let me get my whole fist in you just so you had something to fuck yourself on. God, you must barely be able to make it through the day without anything in you.”

Bucky sits up again so he can see the other man’s face as he moans shamelessly. His dick jerks at the sound. “Or maybe you don’t have to. When you’re not out looking for real dick you keep yourself stretched open on a plug, so you’re ready for someone to just push inside you whenever they want.”

He’s not ready to test the fisting right now, too turned on to have the patience. He’s not going to get Steve much more open than he already is either, so he pulls his fingers out. Steve whines at the loss, fingers digging into the sheets.

“And I bet it’s not just in your ass. Bet you love having something in your mouth too.” His hot, slick fingers drag up Steve’s chest before stopping in front of his lips. “Come on. Suck them. You want to, don’t you slut?”

If he expected hesitation, he doesn’t get any, because Steve’s sitting up to wrap his lips around Bucky’s fingers and suck on them desperately. His eyes shut as he loses himself in the moment, swallowing down the taste and trying not to choke as Bucky cups the back of his head and forces him forward. They’re dripping with saliva when they get pulled out, and he puts his hands on the other man’s hips, speaking while his mouth is free. “I need you to fuck me, James. I need you in me.”

His lips really are swollen now, Bucky thinks, and reaches out to rub at the head of Steve’s dick. Thumbing over the slit makes him whimper and press his forehead against Bucky’s shoulder. “Please. I want it so bad, don’t tease me.”

Bucky hums thoughtfully and reaches past him for the condoms on the nightstand, tearing one free with one hand while still working on another whimper with the other. Admittedly, the night off thing makes him a little uncomfortable, but seeing Steve openly beg for it and look so wrecked is so worth it. When he presses a kiss to his jaw, Steve turns his head to chase it, looking for a real kiss, and Bucky smirks. “I don’t think so. I’m not kissing you now I know where that mouth has been.”

Steve takes the condom from him, opening it and rolling it on with practiced ease. The bed groans in complaint as he moves back to give them room, and Bucky groans with something else as the other man spreads his legs. If he was an artist, this’d be the moment he’d paint for sure. Steve with his stretched hole and his dick leaking against his stomach, begging for it with swollen lips and dark eyes. “God. You’re so fucking pretty. You must’ve been born for this, to get fucked. When they saw you they must’a said ‘nothing for it- he’s a slut’.”

He settles himself in position between Steve’s thighs again, resting his hands on the hard muscle. “You don’t even need the money. You’d let people fuck you all day long for nothing if you could. Whore ain’t what you do, it’s what you are. Right down to the marrow, you’re just a filthy whore who needs to be full all the time. Admit it.”

Steve whines and tries to move his hips to get more contact, but Bucky’s hands stop him. “I’m a whore, I want it so bad- I need it. Please give it to me. Fuck me open, please. Want to feel you. Need you inside me. Please, god, I want you so bad.”

Bucky pushes the tip of his dick against Steve’s slick hole and pauses, shifting his hips just enough for the other man to feel the contact and whine out the words “Don’t tease me, I need it.”

“You gonna cry for it?” He rocks his hips again, not quite the right angle to push inside. “If you don’t get filled, you gonna whine for my dick until you cry? Really turn into a bitch in heat?”

It’s painfully difficult not to fuck into him, but Bucky knows he can get desperate tears if he can hold off a little longer. Rubbing the head of his dick against Steve’s hole again gets him a strained moan. “Come on Steve, I’m starting to think you don’t want it as much as you’re saying.”

Steve makes a choked noise and whines again, the edges of his eyes wetting with tears. “Please, I do, I want it so bad.”

Bucky grins at the sight. “Good boy, there it is. Just like a desperate little bitch. D’you know what I’m going to do now?”

Not trusting his lips to form coherent words beside pleas, Steve just shakes his head.

Leaning over him so they’re nearly face to face, Bucky kisses his chest again. “I’m going to fuck you.”

The noise Steve lets out is so relieved it almost makes him feel bad for holding off so long. Almost. Knowing how long has been spent working Steve open he doesn’t bother to move slowly, and shoves inside in one motion until he’s in as deep as he can. The heat is intense, and he takes a second to adjust and not just come right there. “God, it feels so fucking good to be in you. You really are perfect for taking it."

He knows he won’t last long, not after being on the edge since he got here, but with the open moans falling from Steve’s mouth, he doubts he’ll be alone.

Steve starts a shaky rhythm, but Bucky pins his hips down and holds him in place, getting another frustrated whine. Ignoring it, he lazily thrusts in, trying a couple of different angles. “You look even better with a dick in you. Maybe you should have something in you all the time, keep you this pretty.”

On the third try he gets the right angle and Steve’s back arches off the bed, his entire body tensing, and Bucky has to swear and dig his nails into his palm to keep it together. There’s no point teasing about it when they’re both this close, and he thrusts in again. He moves his hands to the bed and lets Steve start rocking into the motion, getting up a decent rhythm. “Trying to fuck yourself on my dick now? I know you want me deeper but that’s it, that’s all there is. You’re so fucking needy and you’re so pretty I wish I could help but I’m all the way in.”

Their rhythm is getting a little hectic, but Bucky couldn’t stop his mouth if he wanted to, words falling out with as much desperation as any of Steve’s whines. “Don’t know what you’d like better, me coming inside you an’ filling you up, or me pulling out an’ coming all over you an’ making a mess of your pretty face. It’d be hard to do but you’d look so good covered in come.”

“Don’t- want to feel you in me.” Steve’s voice is wrecked, his dick leaking against his stomach heavy, slick on his abs. His nipples are hard and flushed, and Bucky can’t help but reach out to tug at one just to hear him keen again.

“I don’t think I’m convinced.” Bucky knows he’s a terrible person, and Steve is desperate to get fucked, but he doesn’t hesitate for long. After the next thrust he pulls back until he’s completely out, and Steve honest to god whimpers at the loss.

It takes a lot of willpower to not shove back in as Steve’s hips jerk helplessly, but he manages it as he slides the condom off again. He wraps a hand around his dick, though he barely needs it with how wrecked Steve looks. He moves and he’s hardly jerked twice when he comes, splattering wetly against the broad chest beneath him.

Steve’s entire body tenses, but it’s not quite enough, and he’s reaching for his neglected cock when Bucky pins his wrist to the bed. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

A whine comes from deep in Steve’s throat, but as his wrist is released he doesn’t try again, just watches powerlessly as Bucky catches his breath and staggers upright, pulling on his clothes hastily.

“This was fun,” he says as he buttons up his shirt again. “Should definitely do it again sometime.”

With that he’s out the door and pulling out his phone to call for a cab home, leaving Steve achingly hard and covered in come.

  
Bucky’s been home for a good hour when the door opens, and he looks up from his book with a warm smile. “Have a good night out?”

Steve, dressed in neat, clean jeans and a soft t-shirt, nods. “Yeah, it was fun. Have a good night in?” The book gets brandished at him as he shucks his shoes and makes his way over to the couch. He drops onto it just as he gets an answer.

“Me and Stephen King had a great time.” Bucky tilts his head and kisses his cheek. “Though this dog has some serious problems.”

The radio plays softly from across the room, and in the dim glow of the lights it’s intensely peaceful. Steve throws his arm along the back of the couch and presses a return kiss against Bucky’s temple, happy to sit there as he keeps reading and just soak up his presence.

Bucky doesn’t always feel comfortable with these nights out, even if he goes along with them, even if he understands them.

 _But anything that makes Steve this content,_ he thinks, turning his attention back to the page and letting Steve’s warmth soak into him, _can’t be all bad._

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [hyemi](http://www.captainfart.tumblr.com) and [laurie](http://www.cynicalginger.tumblr.com) for reading over this you guys are wee angels.
> 
> you can come chill with me on tumblr [here](http://www.inkorstardust.tumblr.com)


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